CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #3
The head of Jules’ cock slips past the barrier of his throat so easily now and it makes Lachlan crazy, makes him feel like the shape of a wave as it curls high before crashing hard, it’s almost spiritual, oh God, he’s losing himself, wants more, wants Jules to fuck his mouth harder, rougher, forever, forever, please.
A steady stream of soft, guttural noises punches past Jules’ lips in time with his thrusts, pretty little, ‘Uh, uh, uh’ sounds that drive Lachlan insane as they get faster, more nasal and then become a low whine.
Jules fucks deep and slams home, fingers pulling on Lachlan’s hair hard enough to almost hurt the way he wants. Jules spills down his throat.
Lachlan Tanner is a slave for him, now and always.
Obsolete rituals lost to time, it’s magic.
Jules is pure fucking magic.
Lachlan kisses the skin as he pulls off.
The taste of Jules’ come is a bitter salty smack that he relishes and he can taste it whenever he swallows. Lachlan kisses Jules’ lower stomach, fascinated when the muscles jump and Jules laughs breathlessly, pulling him up, closer.
‘Tickles.’
Lachlan studies him, reading, seeking.
He feels stupid but not in a bad way.
Just so wholly focused on Jules that it leaves him non-verbal.
Lachlan rubs his nose against Jules’ own, planting small kisses on his lips until Jules makes them big ones, deep and greedy, sharing the taste of himself.
‘I never came like that before,’ Jules tells Lachlan, hand splayed over Lachlan’s side with the three scars. Jules can fit a finger on each of the three. ‘You’re gonna ruin me, aren’t you?’
Lachlan grunts affirmative, kissing him with closed eyes, the lashes of which are wet. ‘Love you,’ he mutters, intelligence returning slowly. ‘I love you,’ he says, so painfully true that it hurts to say, ‘Just love you so much.’
‘I love you too,’ Jules tells him, pushing his hair back, those gorgeous eyes roaming. ‘Are you OK?’ Lachlan nods, smiles to show he is but it’s a little shaky and Jules is so sharp, of course he sees it. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, promise.’
‘Are you sure?’
A sharp flicker of irritation at himself for making Jules worry grants Lachlan a moment of clarity. He clears his throat, beautifully sore, then leans over him and kisses him properly this time, kisses him the way he deserves. ‘I’m so sure, baby,’ he murmurs. ‘Sorry.’
‘I like seeing you stripped back, just want to make sure you’re all right.’
‘I’m always all right.’
Honey brown eyes move between dark grey.
‘Not always,’ he whispers, clever thing, so fucking smart, he’s like a human lie detector sometimes.
Jules’ hand is trailing absently over Lachlan’s body, and it’s driving Lachlan fucking crazy.
It makes his throat full in a different way, twists him into a knotted mess of pulsing muscle, makes him want to cry, beg, beg for it to never stop. ‘Oh, you like this?’
Lachlan nods, gone stupid again, had barely five seconds of being human before the sensations returned full force. ‘Ngh.’
‘I don’t think you get touched very often,’ Jules whispers as his hand levels out horizontally over Lachlan’s back, hovering just a fraction above as he strokes him and the sensation of it makes Lachlan want to cry it’s so good.
Jules is right, no one touches him like this, no one ever has, and he’s starving for it.
‘When’s the last time someone touched you gently? ’
Lachlan has to dredge words up like a body from a lake.
‘Like this?’
‘Yeah.’
‘N-never.’
Jules flips them over and gets on top.
Lachlan can see Jules so much better now, his arms aren’t trembling with the effort of holding himself up although he bemoans the loss of Jules’ hand making heaven over his skin in that strange way.
Once again, Lachlan had pretty much forgotten about his dick, currently aching and straining for attention between their bodies. Lachlan stares up, trying hard to come back to his focused, capable self.
Love really does seem to be the ruin of him.
‘Can I…?’ Jules asks, hand drifting to Lachlan’s cock.
Lachlan swallows, throat dry.
‘Anything. Whatever you want,’ he says and means it, would let Jules fuck him if he wanted, has never let anyone do that but he would now, only he senses that’s not what Jules wants. Jules’ fingers brush up along the column of his cock, a feather-light touch that has Lachlan’s thighs quivering.
‘Fuck,’ Jules utters, fascinated. ‘You’re so responsive.’
‘Mhhm,’ Lachlan agrees, lips in a tight line.
‘I didn’t expect that.’
‘No?’
‘Thought you’d be all angry, y’know? Up against the wall, hand over my mouth, like that.’
Lachlan wants to say he thought that too, but apparently complex speech requires braincells and they’re too busy dancing. ‘Mm.’
‘Can I make you come?’
‘Literally anything,’ he pants, hopes Jules gets the message because if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, he’s gonna babble all kinds of ridiculous shit, won’t be able to stop it and they have to be a little bit quiet at least.
Jules’ hand wraps around his cock, perfect grip that makes such pleasure in Lachlan that it drips molten to pool at the base of his spine, trickling into his navel, and he’s gonna come so, so fucking fast it’ll be mortifying but he can’t help it, he’s so close already, insane, inhuman, it’s too good, it’s—
It’s like the soft plunge before death so violent you don’t even feel it, pure white silk strangling him.
Sensory overwhelm so strong it hits a tonal note he never heard before, makes music and light born of love, new laws form within, never to be broken.
The orgasm sucker-punches Lachlan into pure bliss so deep it could literally stop his fucking heart, insane, terrible, lovely.
Lachlan knows all the secrets of the universe.
He comes all over Jules’ hand and feels Jules kissing him, saying his name and touching him, loving him so well. Lachlan wraps strong arms around Jules and rolls carefully on top, angles the kiss to get in deeper and then settles between Jules’ legs when they open for him.
‘That definitely didn’t happen,’ Lachlan says.
‘I think it did,’ Jules counters, so fucking amused, so smugly happy. ‘I think you came in less than five seconds and I’m never gonna let you forget it.’
‘I bet I can make you forget,’ Lachlan purrs as every single thing he’s felt in the last fifteen minutes assimilates perfectly into glass within, shining and perfect, the light can pass through, vividly split. ‘Hmm?’
‘You can try,’ Jules whispers, grinning, reaching down to grip Lachlan’s still hard cock, ‘but no force on earth is gonna make me forget that my big, strong bodyguard came the second I touched his dick.’
Lachlan bites his neck to make pretty bruises, rolls his hips, wants so bad to fuck his way inside and feel the body he loves stretch around him.
‘I could blackmail you.’
‘You’ll never break me,’ Jules whispers, pressing up against him, reaching clumsily into his bedside drawer. He gives Lachlan the tube of lube.
‘Condoms?’
‘Can we not? I want all your come inside me,’ Jules whines, bratty as fuck when he wants to be and Lachlan chuckles, pops the cap open.
‘Maybe at some point,’ he allows, trying not to think about the fact that he knows with concrete certainty this will happen again. ‘But for now—’
‘I want you to come inside me, please.’
‘No.’ Lachlan is unbothered by the wheedling, well used to it by now. He rakes around blindly in the drawer, searching for the familiar feel of the packet but he finds something else instead. Fabric that feels familiar. ‘What’s this?’
‘Oh—n-nothing, no, that’s—’
The black fabric is screwed up into a ball, unfurls with dense creases. The material is thick with something. Lachlan has to pull back to see it.
It’s an old t-shirt of his, torn to shreds. ‘Was this…?
‘No! It’s just... y’know, I use it for cleanup,’ Jules says, trying to grab it.
He’s blushing, embarrassed.
‘It’s mine,’ Lachlan says, ‘isn’t it? From the vents.’
‘Give it back!’ Jules grabs it and Lachlan lets him take it back that time, otherwise it’ll rip apart so easily. It’s definitely what he wore that day when he went to get Jules out and got chewed to fuck by his own innovation.
‘Why’d you keep it?’ Lachlan asks gentle and curious.
‘Because you bled for me,’ Jules says, frowning. ‘It… even though you were mad, it was the nicest thing anyone did for me.’
‘Oh baby,’ Lachlan says, kissing him. ‘You’re so fucked up.’
Jules makes an indignant sound, smacks his ass hard.
‘You should talk, Mr Five Seconds Flat!’
Lachlan snorts into his mouth, drizzling lube liberally between Jules’ legs even while he laughs. ‘That my new nickname?’
‘It will be if you don’t—uhhh, ohh God fuck yeah,’ he moans, threats cut short as Lachlan slides one finger inside him, and his spine arches like a bow drawn tight. Lachlan finds his prostate, rubbing and circling.
‘Well, look at that. A way to shut you up,’ he whispers, sucking on Jules’ earlobe as he finger-fucks him open, adding a second, stretching Jules to take what comes next. ‘Show me what you do with the tee.’
‘Fuck off,’ Jules grits out, cheeks red, tears spilling as new pleasure begins to pull him apart. ‘I didn’t do anything with it.’
‘Liar,’ Lachlan accuses knowingly, ruthlessly rubbing where it feels so good that Jules squirms and whines, fingers digging into Lachlan’s skin, fuck yes, he wants that, he wants this boy’s marks like teeth. ‘Show me.’
‘Guess.’
‘I bet…’ Lachlan adds a third finger slowly, watching for pain, but Jules doesn’t tense up. He’s liquid, warm and relaxed, ‘that you put it over your face while you jerked off,’ he guesses, voice dropped to a low baritone. ‘Am I right?’
Jules kisses him so hard it draws blood.
‘You’re always right, Bodyguard,’ he pants, hips rolling in time with the rhythm of Lachlan’s targeted preparation. ‘I fucking hate it.’
‘Nah,’ Lachlan says, draws back the three and lets his little finger join them before slowly, so fucking slowly, pushing them all in together and watching Jules’ mouth fall open, brow knotted, ‘you love it, baby.’